The Storm
by ofsparrowsandmockingjays
Summary: Post AWE. Now, beneath the old blankets he lay relaxed yet angrier than ever as a flash of lightening echoed around the empty cabin. The only thing he saw when he closed his eyes was her face, and the image of the last time he'd heard thunder this loud.


Disclaimer: Why would I write fanfiction if I owned anything?

A clap of thunder sounded, followed by a frustrated masculine groan. A man of the sea, _Captain_ Jack Sparrow was no stranger to foul weather. He'd come to love storms almost as much as he loved his _Pearl_ and the sea itself. The fury, Mother Nature and Calypso at their best, their most vulnerable, swept up in their anger and release. On a night like tonight, the Captain would usually be at the helm. But tonight, he found himself in such a mood that he could not bear to witness the storm in all her fury. At the first whiff of the thick, humid air that promised ill weather, something in his mind had switched off and all he could feel was the cold that was forth coming. The part of his mind that held emotions came alive, and he'd excused himself to his cabin while leaving the _Pearl_ in Gibbs' hands.

He'd downed two bottles of rum, not enough to make him full-out drunk but just enough to remove that edge that the memories were creating on his heart. Now, beneath the old blankets he lay relaxed yet angrier than ever as a flash of lightening echoed around the empty cabin. The _Pearl_rocked violently, yet he closed his eyes and tried to think of when he'd last found the sound of rain and thunder comforting, that jerking of the ship relaxing. The only thing he saw when he closed his eyes was her face, and the image of the last time he'd heard thunder this loud.

* * *

A clap of thunder echoed like a gunshot around the room, followed by a piercing cry. Jack groaned, burying his face into the pillow as he lay on his stomach. "You're being summoned, luv." He heard her laugh, and a gold-tooth smile broke out on his face.

"It would seem so," Elizabeth replied, extracting herself from the covers. "I'll be right back," she whispered as she came around to his side of the bed and pressed a kiss to his lips.

"I'll hold you to that, darling," Jack called after her as another cry sounded.

He stared blankly into the dark, a flash of lightening quickly lighting up the room. A smirk couldn't be resisted as his dark eyes landed on the dresser across the room. In the top drawer under some of Lizzie's old books and mementos lay a letter from Will. After the newlyweds had been dropped off, Jack had been robbed of his _Pearl_ again and he'd tracked down Barbossa after a month of searching. Once in control of his ship again, Jack sailed around aimlessly once more as he had before being marooned. Months passed and he ended up back at Shipwreck, looking for Lizzie. He found her in a small cabin on a cliff, heavily with child.

He hadn't expected her to affect him like she had. Jack had expected their old friendship, any stray 'stirrings' of feelings long gone. But after an evening of talking and a couple of bottles of rum later on his part, the stirrings were back and she ended up crying on his shoulder. Weeping women were _not_ his ideal situation, not having that much patience with them. But with her, something snapped. She told him of Will's letter, which granted her permission to be with Jack in his absence. It seemed that the whelp was not as ignorant as Jack had believed him- or himself, for that matter- to be when it came to the now-Missus Turner.

That night before the battle that had sent Will to his doomed fate, not all had been innocent. The memory played across his mind as he read Will's words.

_Her hand stinging across his cheek as her temperament finally reached its breaking point with his snarky remarks to her. The staring contest of sorts that had followed, before she reached up to caress the spot she'd just struck. "I'm sorry, Jack." _

"_I don't need apologies, luv."_

"_But you want them, do you not?"_

_His eyes cut to her before he cradled her face in his hands and kissed her. Her lips were softer than he'd remembered, perhaps because they weren't laden with revenge this time. He would have had his way with her, but she was obstinate about remaining pure for her someday-wedding night with Will. He could not refuse her, something in him didn't let him fight her. She was his Lizzie. The next morning they had awoken on his bed, her atop him and cradled to his chest. Though nothing indecent had occurred, she'd sworn him to secrecy, and he'd agreed._

_Before she'd went ashore for her one day with her new husband, he'd refused another touch. "Once was quite enough," he'd said jokingly, but his words were serious. She knew the effect she had on him, perhaps that is why she left so easily._

Jack had sat there, listening. The bitter part of him wanted to just shrug it off like he did most things, yet the better, good man part of him won and he swore to do right by her. She was alone, and in no condition to be left with no friend. Weeks just before the birth Jack had left, giving her time to adjust.

That was eight months ago. The junior whelp, as Jack called him, was growing nicely and was healthy, as was Elizabeth. A shushed cry sounded through the small house, pulling him out of his thoughts. Knowing that she'd be a few more minutes, as she was probably thinking ahead and feeding the babe so that he wouldn't need fed as soon in the morning, Jack closed his eyes. It had been a while since he'd felt this content. The bath he'd been treated to earlier had left him relaxed, and now beneath Liz's covers he felt as if it was not real. He loved the _Pearl_ and the security that she gave him, but he had Lizzie here. Someone to talk to. He trusted Gibbs with his life, but Lizzie was different.

"You haven't fallen asleep on me again, have you?" He opened his eyes to the now-candle-lit room, smirking at the sight of Elizabeth kneeling in the floor in front of where he was lying. She lifted a hand and revealed a bottle of rum.

"Ah, Lizzie, you do treat a man well. William didn't know what he was missing, not marrying you sooner…" He reached for the bottle and she pulled away teasingly. Jack sat up and gave her a knowing look, only to be given a smirk and a kiss on the lips.

He hummed in contentment as he deepened it, moving his hands down her body until he found the hand with the rum. "Gotcha," he whispered against her lips, giving her one more peck before pulling away and taking a swig from the bottle. Propping up against the pillows, he patted her side of the bed, urging her to come next to him.

She did as he bade, curling next to him and resting her head on his shoulder while keeping her caramel eyes on him. Sighing, Jack lowered the bottle and looked down at Elizabeth. "Hello, darling," he drawled seductively before pressing his mouth to hers once more. She shifted, slowly moving so that she was leaning over him. When they paused for a quick breath, his voice acted without his approval. "Come with me, Lizzie."

"What?" She asked with a laugh in her voice. He widened his eyes for a moment before acting like he'd planned to ask her at that moment all along. "You're serious?" The humor disappeared from her face as she watched his expression harden.

"The junior whelp too. We'll figure out lodgings for it- I mean him- and you could come back onto the sea, where the Pirate King belongs." A ringed hand tangled in her blonde tresses as he waited for her answer, even though he predicted what it would be.

"I can't, Jack," Lizzie whispered. "You know I can't. Not _yet_, at least. You're also well aware that I want to, if I didn't want you I wouldn't have you here in my bed." She smirked one that resembled his own, causing him to chuckle. Reaching up to caress his jaw, she whispered, "I care for you, Jack."

"And I, you." He concluded. He knew what she meant. _Love._ The four-lettered word was hard for him to speak, after having seen things and people he'd loved torn from him and destroyed, time and time again. Did he love her? He had no doubts, but he'd never voice it to her. She knew.

Jack watched as she opened her mouth then closed it a couple more times. Instead of speaking, she decided to just lean up and kiss him. He smirked into the kiss, deepening it to see how far she'd let him go. When she didn't stop him, he slowly rotated them so that he was above her as she lay against the pillows. His lips moved to her neck, and she gave a sound that emitted a groan from him as well. His restraint snapped. If he couldn't have her with him all the time, then he'd have her tonight.

"Are you upset?" She asked, her voice quiet in the aftermath of what they just shared. She was curled against his chest, one hand playing with the scars on his chest.

"Nay," Jack replied honestly. He wasn't upset. He was _frustrated._ She'd let him in her bed, into her personal space, exchanged intimacies and secrets with him, yet she wouldn't leave to be with him. He'd never admit it, but he wanted her to himself and in his possession at all times. But he had to understand her reasons. "Sleep, darling."

Elizabeth let out a sigh and nodded, nuzzling closer. "Love you," she whispered as she fell asleep. He tensed then kissed the top of her head, one bejeweled hand weaving into her hair. _If you only knew,_he thought. Softly, he began to hum a sea chantey, one that he knew to be her favorite. Before long, he found himself in slumber as well.

* * *

Growling, Jack got out of the bed and found his almost-finished bottle of rum on the chart table in the main room. Downing the rest of it in a couple of gulps, he smashed the bottle down against the table in drunken anger. The glass cut his hand, but he didn't care. It was a _good _hurt, he had something somewhat worth cursing over. He dropped the remainder of the bottle that was in his hand and picked out any spare shards that were stuck in his skin. After sloppily wrapping a cloth around it, he grabbed a fresh bottle and took a swig on the way back to his bed.

He set the bottle on the ground after a moment, rotating onto his stomach. In his drunken stupor, he saw her facing him in the empty side of the bed. Reaching towards her, he imagined stroking her face before drifting off, content that he'd touched her once more. In some part of Jack's brain, he knew that it wasn't real, that he'd awaken in the morning to find that he was just as alone as he'd always been. But for now, he was content.


End file.
